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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27830803">Not another party, please!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColourShot/pseuds/ColourShot'>ColourShot</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Young Ones (TV 1982)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Inspired By Tumblr, It's christmas with the scumbags, Light Angst, Mike Has Anxiety, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, the cool person is not feeling so cool, very not subtle bbc bottom reference</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:41:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,411</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27830803</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColourShot/pseuds/ColourShot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Who knew a Christmas party and a pair of broken sunglasses would lead to such interesting revelations?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Not another party, please!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Well this was inspired by a tumblr post I saw about Mike very possibly having anxiety so I kinda took that and ran with it. Anon, if you're out there, this one is for you!</p><p>Gah I've never written so much with Mike, he's a hard character to write for me. Still, this was new and quite fun!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If Mike knew one thing, it was that the cool person was <em>not</em> supposed to get anxious. He was the straight man of the group, the beacon of hope, their stability, the safe cove in the stormy sea of what was his friend's tumultuous personalities. So while he was standing in front of his mirror, shaking terribly and near obsessively rechecking his outfit, it struck him that this wasn't exactly how he thought things should be. Mike tried to slow his rising heartbeat and rapidly shakier breaths. All this, over a party. A silly Christmas party. He had no idea why he was so worried, really! Well the last party they’d held <em>had</em> been an utter disaster...and he’d spent a majority of it stuck in his room, unable to move because of the same indescribable feeling of fear that was taking him over now. So maybe he wasn’t the great pillar of stability he thought himself to be. Mike decided not to give those negative thoughts any more of a voice, not tonight, he simply couldn’t afford that. Not again, not when the guys were here. He just couldn’t. </p><p>“MIKE!” Vyvyan’s sudden, harsh shout broke Mike away from his mirror and increasingly worrying thoughts. “ARE YOU COMING?”</p><p>“Uh..y-YES!” Mike hated how his voice wavered, as slight as it was. Truth be told, he was <em>not</em> ready to go downstairs but he feared staying in his room any longer. A final check of his rather ugly Christmas sweater (Rick’s pick, not his), sunglasses on and he was out of his room. He stopped rather suddenly at the final set of stairs, they looked...much steeper than before. In fact all of his vision was going all odd, he wasn’t feeling so hot-</p><p>“Mike” Neil whined, hovering into view. “Vyv’s, like, trying to set fire to the tree.” He stopped to look back into the living room. “And now Rick…” Neil only now noticed how much the cool person was shaking, seemingly stuck at the top of the stairs. “You alright, Mike?”</p><p>“Perfectly fine, Neil. I’ll be down in a second. Go make sure Vyv doesn’t kill Rick in the meantime, alright?” Mike flashed his signature smile (though it had certainly lost some of it’s usual charm). Neil didn’t quite seem convinced but nodded, off to make sure Rick was still intact. Mike on the other hand, was trying to not pass out and fall down the stairs. He was sweating much too much and it wasn’t just the sweater. He took it one step at a time, gripping onto the handrail as if his life depended on it. </p><p>And considering how much his vision was swimming, he was sure it <em>did.</em></p><p>* *</p><p>“I was just joking, poof!” </p><p>“<strong>WELL,</strong> me and my bottom don’t find being set on fire awfully funny, thank you <em>very</em> much. In fact I’d rweally rather you NEVER do it again!”</p><p>“I-” Vyvyan and Rick <em>had</em> been arguing. That was before Mike stumbled into the room, looking like he could barely keep himself up.</p><p>“Blummin’ hell, Mike! You’ve gone completely pale!”</p><p>“Thank you, Rick-” Mike was going to say something clever but he felt his legs give way underneath him. He crumpled to the floor, sunglasses clattering off and landing at Vyvyan’s feet. It wasn’t long before he felt himself being hoisted off the floor and sat down on the couch. Mike still hoped he could pass this entire thing off as some kind of medical condition they didn’t know about, not that he was most definitely having a bloody panic attack at the prospect of another party going terribly. He hadn’t dared to open his eyes yet, he didn’t have his sunglasses on him, there was no barrier between him and the judgemental looks his housemates were no doubt currently giving him. Mike felt sweat collecting on his forehead, god he felt terrible.</p><p>“Um...Mike?” Neil poked the man very slightly. That didn’t seem like the most thoughtful gesture but Neil wasn’t sure of what else to do. Mike had just collapsed after all. Mike didn’t respond, his words seemed to have gotten stuck in his throat. “Mike?”</p><p>“Leave him alone Neil, stop bloody pestering him!” Rick swatted Neil away and began chewing him out. Mike’s head started to hurt at the sound of them squabbling. It only grew worse the longer they fought. </p><p>“PLEASE” Mike exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose, hands still shaking. “Please...just get me my sunglasses.” He softened his tone, he <em>needed</em> those glasses. He was unsure if they had understood, his eyes were still screwed shut and none of them had said anything. Still, the scuffling noises and a few hushed “<em>move, no you move!</em>” gave him a pretty good idea of what was happening. Soon enough, Neil tapped on his shoulder again. </p><p>“Like, here they are” Mike blindly reached for them, cracking a single eye open very slightly, just enough to grab the glasses. He almost felt his heart stop as he did so.</p><p>They were broken. </p><p>Mike sat up straight immediately, snatching the glasses out of Neil's hand with such force that Mike was surprised he didn't shatter them further. <em>No, no, no, no.</em> What the hell was he going to do now? Mike could feel tears beginning to collect in his eyes, he couldn't bear to look up at his housemates. He was well and truly screwed, nothing was stopping them from seeing the panic in his eyes, the few tears that were seriously threatening to spill, <em>nothing was stopping them from seeing past the persona he had tried so hard to build.</em></p><p>"Mike? A-Are you alright?" Rick sounded...scared? He moved forward to touch Mike again before stopping, watching the man shrink away. Mike didn't dare to say anything, his heart was hammering in his chest, that earlier panic was coming to a head, everything around Mike was coming crashing down- </p><p>And Mike felt completely and utterly powerless to stop it.</p><p>Rick interrupted his crisis and for once he felt grateful for it. </p><p>“Ah...Michael? You...hah, didn’t rweally answer me before…” Mike looked up and his housemates could finally get a good look at his face. A few tears trickled down it (despite any attempts to stop it on his part) and he was still deathly pale.</p><p>“I-I’m fine, alright Rick?” He made a final last ditch attempt to convince his friends that he <em>really was absolutely alright</em> despite the fact he was very clearly not and his voice cracked terribly just saying that sentence in the first place. Unsurprisingly, they were not convinced. What was surprising was that Vyvyan was the first to offer any real comfort. He sat next to Mike, if a little awkwardly.</p><p>“You-” He started, seemingly still trying to work out what to say. “You uh...don’t have to pretend you’re okay. ‘S okay if you’re not.” Vyvyan’s usually gruff tone of voice had softened slightly. If anything, Mike appreciated that gesture. He still couldn’t bring himself to say anything, he felt worrying close to the edge of losing it completely, his heartbeat hadn’t slowed much and the looming threat of that party was <em>still</em> hanging over his head.</p><p>“Yeah!” Rick said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “Ah, I mean...what Vyvyan said.” Rick quieted quite quickly after that absolutely inspired piece of comforting on his part. The energy (or <em>vibes</em> as Neil would have put it) in the house had changed from that of stress to a weird awkwardness. No one really knew what to do. </p><p>“What’s, like, stressing you out, Mike?” Mike rubbed his eyes in response. He supposed there was no real point in lying anymore. </p><p>“The p-party-” He exhaled shakily, suddenly very very interested in the floor. “I just...I can’t.” Mike didn’t elaborate but (mercifully) he didn’t have to. </p><p>“Well, then we’re not having a party.” Vyvyan said confidently and that was final. Rick and Neil just nodded in agreement. Mike felt like he could cry from relief before something else began to worry him. </p><p>“Rick...your friends…?” The word “friends” maybe wasn’t totally accurate but they’d still invited guests. </p><p>“Ohh, <em>ruddy hell</em>” Rick cringed slightly, he was definitely going to be letting down all his great mates, he was <em>sure</em> they were going to have had a great time discussing Trotsky…”Um…” Vyvyan and Neil were looking at him rather expectantly. ‘<em>What?</em>’ What did they want him to say? ‘<em>You bloody well know what, you spotty twa-</em>’ Yes yes, alright. “Oh screw them. I-I’m sure throwing a Christmas party is a perfectly fascist thing to do anyway…” Most of Rick's usual fire had died but he still said “<em>fascist</em>” with the same air of smugness that he normally did. Mike was grateful for that shred of normality. </p><p>“Well…” Mike cleared his throat, his shaking had slowed slightly, what with the threat of the party gone, although he didn’t exactly feel quite right. It was obvious to the rest of the housemates that he was still bothered, <em>which bothered them.</em></p><p>“Hot chocolate!” Neil jumped up rather suddenly. They looked at him, rather confused. Neil was a little too engrossed in his burst of energy to...do something. </p><p>“Just what exactly do you mean?” Rick had returned to his usual accusatory tone. Neil stopped, already halfway to the kitchen. </p><p>“I mean, like, I could make us some hot chocolate! Hot drinks always help me mellow out, right?” Mike had to admit, that actually sounded rather nice. </p><p>“Do we even <strong>have</strong> hot chocolate?” Vyvyan piped up. Neil nodded. </p><p>“I, like, have a secret stash...for whenever I’m feeling down.” Neil’s face flushed slightly just admitting that. Neil had been mostly saving it for others, he was still sure sugar rotted your teeth and gave you brain damage <em>but</em> the hippie thought it must be okay sometimes.</p><p>“WELL then, I’m surprised you have any left!” Rick snorted, Neil just looked at him, mildly annoyed. Although if anyone was feeling <em>particularly</em> observant (no one was), they would have noticed that for the briefest, most fleeting moment, Neil looked happy that the energy in the house was returning to normal.</p><p>And the others shared his sentiment. </p><p>As Neil busied himself with the hot chocolate making, Vyvyan and Rick began fussing over Mike (with a few mild protests from him). They spent an awful lot of their time bickering over who was going to bring the cool person cushions and blankets until Mike finally convinced them that he was fine and <em>really</em> didn’t need all that. </p><p>A disturbance came halfway through the boys second cup of hot chocolate (which even Rick would begrudgingly admit was <em>very</em> good). A knock at the door. Mike practically fell off the couch, he’d been jumpy since his earlier crisis. Rick jumped up immediately, completely forgetting he was <em>definitely</em> meant to be telling Neil to answer it. He rushed to the door, flinging it open. </p><p>“WHAT?” He said, looking back over at Mike for approval, who nodded (although he was still trying to collect himself from the fright the door knocking had caused). A few of the guests they’d invited were standing on the threshold. “Ah…” Rick had pretty much forgotten all about the party, they <em>hadn’t</em> actually officially called it off.</p><p>“We’re here for the party.” One of the stated, as if it should have been obvious. Rick looked back at his friends, scanning their faces. One look at Mike and his rather terrified expression at the prospect of seeing anyone outside their group today made Rick make up his mind pretty quickly. </p><p>“Well, the party has been cancelled. Didn’t you hear? <em>Honestly</em> it’s pwetty bloody rude of you to have still turned up. Piss off you...you bastards!” Rick snorted, slamming the door in their face. Rick had no doubt ruined his chances of <em>ever</em> being the most popular member of the Anarchist club but honestly Rick couldn’t find it in himself to care. Instead, he ran back into the living room. “Did you see that? I was greattt, Mike, Mike, did you see how great I was?” He began doing a weird sort of gallop around the room, hyped up on how bloody rebellious he felt for turning away those people like that.</p><p>“Very good Rick.” Mike offered him a rather strained smile but he <em>was</em> glad those people were gone.  Rick seemed satisfied with that answer and re-joined them back on the couch, pushing Neil off it at the same time. Neil only complained slightly (which was met with a “<em>Tough luck buster!</em>” from Rick) before deciding to sit on the floor. It wasn’t actually awful on the floor and at least they weren’t turning him into Mike’s footrest. </p><p>As the hours passed, everyone grew more glad that the plans had been cancelled after all. Neil had cooked up what was, by his standards, a smashing Christmas dinner. Vyvyan had promised not to destroy anything (well that <em>was</em> until he brought out the exploding carrots). Said carrots had been repurposed from Halloween - when Mike had expressly forbidden Vyvyan use them on any unsuspecting trick or treaters - to be a little more festive (and a little less explody, they were more like souped-up sparklers now). Vyvyan never did tell them where he exactly got the inspiration for them from but he reassured them it was from someone trustworthy. Still, they definitely lit up the house a little more (actually a <strong>lot</strong> more before Mike put the resulting fire out).</p><p>A few carrots and a whole lot of damage control later, the boys were wiped out. They’d decided against any more excitement (Mike looked like he was close to losing it again) and opted for some tv watching. They weren’t sure how they always ended up on the couch, all together anytime one of them was upset but that seemed to be the way of things. No one was particularly complaining about it either. Besides when it was Christmas and you were snuggled under one blanket, onto what must have been the 6th cup of hot chocolate and tv blaring, even the most determined hippie would find it hard to come up with something to complain about.    </p><p>**</p><p>Mike never did tell them what had upset him so terribly or why the prospect of another party was so utterly terrifying. They supposed they’d never actually asked but the likelihood of them ever getting a straight answer out of the cool person was very small indeed.</p>
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